Consternation

Con·ster·na·tion

noun

noun: consternation

feelings of anxiety or dismay, typically at something unexpected.

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3. Chapter 3 - Isaac

 

I’m happy that Brianna is back in town. Back when we were 11, we were best friends; inseparable. No matter where we went, we went together. Many times we even sat in the bathroom while the other went just to keep the other company. People would think that it was weird but we thought it was pretty normal. Back then, we didn’t think anything of it. It was just something that we did. It made us, us.

 

I wanted to see her again, but I was scared she would turn me down once she figures out about Toby. Yeah, I may be an ass to everyone at school, but only my family actually know what I’m truly like. The asshole persona is just to get people’s attention. I don’t want to be known as the nice guy. Being the nice guy will get me nowhere.

 

It’s your high school years that people base your personality off of. If you were smart then you were stereotyped to be a know it all, and if you smoked and did drugs like that then you were a badass; very clever knowledge.  

 

Don’t get me wrong, getting high is fun. But it’s not that fun. I still want to be able to get good grades and be a good guy. Unfortunately, I could only choose one and I chose the badass. It scares away some of the girls, thinking that I’m a hopeless stoner with no future. And I don’t know if I have a future. I don’t know if I want to go to college. But of course, if I want to go to college, it would mean that I’d have to get good grades and that’s one more thing I don’t have.

 

My parents keep telling me that a tutor would suit me, but it’s too expensive to even try for one. I’d rather have my parents spend their money on something other than me. I’m just a worthless fuck that can’t do anything right, so why should they even try?

 

I go on Twitter and scroll through my timeline. Since I follow a lot of people, it’s pretty crowded with bullshit tweets that no one cares about. One conversation catches my attention though.

 

“@_CameronLyre: @_Brianna_ you should draw me lol”

 

“@_Brianna_: @_CameronLyre In your dreams, Ponyboy.”

 

“@_CameronLyre: @_Brianna_ fan of the outsiders, huh?”

 

Since when were Cameron and Brianna friends? Last time I checked, they were both shy fuckers that don’t talk to anyone besides themselves. I know that Cameron talks to himself, but I don’t know about Brianna. He’s doing more with Brianna than I have in a year. Lucky fucker.

 

I zip up my black skinny jeans as I walk across my room to my door where I grab a pair of black skater shoes and my black backpack; pretty much everything black is how I go. As I make my way downstairs, I can hear my brother squealing from the kitchen making a small smile form on my face. Toby was different, a good different though. It didn’t matter to me that he was disabled, he was my brother; my own flesh and blood.

 

I do my best to make sure that he doesn’t find out about what I do with my free time or what I do on Friday nights. He’s too young to understand anyways. But if he found out, he’d find a way to tell my mom in one of his cute ways, she would freak and then probably send me to a military school to “fix me”.

 

When I reach the kitchen, I take out the milk carton and drink right out of it, not being bothered to pour a glass. Toby is sitting at the table, making a mess with his cereal.

 

“Toby, what do you think you’re doing?” My voice trails out happily as I walk over to him, leaning over carefully to place a soft kiss to the top of his head. He had a tendency to pull others hair, so I always had to be careful when I get close to him.

 

His hands frall around as I look down at him in admiration. “You’re perfect to me,” I mumbled softly. It never bothered me that my brother wasn’t like other people, it just made me ten times happier; he was unique in his own special way and that’s all I could ask for. He was my baby brother, my partner in crime.

 

After grabbing my backpack, I head off to school. There’s no need to drive since I live in Chicago and there would be traffic everyday. Plus, it’s still illegal for me to drive. The laws don’t stop me though, the city does. I light a cigarette for the short walk to school, knowing that no one would catch me. The police have better things to do with their time. When I get there, I meet up with Cameron at the entrance of the school.

 

“Don’t get caught,” he says.

 

“Says the guy smoking on the roof.”

 

“Where else am I supposed to smoke? My apartment? My parents would kill me.” He said, which made me chuckle a little bit.

 

“If you keep this up, they will be the last ones who kill you."

 

A roll of the eyes and a punch in the chest was all I got with a “shut up,” mumbled under his breath.

 

"At least I don't smoke weed." He points out.

 

"There's nothing wrong with smoking weed." I lie.

 

"Everything's wrong with smoking weed." He says as the bell rings. We say our goodbyes and head off to class. Well, he heads off to class.

 

I have Math first period which is the class I always ditch. Instead of going, I hide out underneath the back stairs with a few "friends" of mine.

 

As I’m leaning against the slanted stars and taking a drag, I see a pink headed girl walking towards me making me smirk.

 

“Look what the cat dragged in." I howled as I made myself noticeable, but the girl didn’t even acknowledge my presence; she just kept walking with her head down. However, even with her head down and her walking away, I still heard her bitchy ass comment.

 

“Go fuck yourself,” Which made me aggravated.

 

"Who do you think you are?" I snap, irritated that she thinks that she can tell me to go fuck myself. She turned around and looked up at me from a distance with a smirk before flicking me off and turning back around to continue her way down the hallway.

 

From a few seconds of seeing her face, I knew exactly who she was. I don't say anything since she's already out of sight. Where did that confidence come from?

 

I take another drag and continue talking shit about her to everyone else in the room.


 

“Do you know who that pink-haired girl is?” I ask Cameron. We’re at his place, chilling in his room.

 

“No clue. I’ve only seen her once on the roof. She’s a bitch.”

 

“She told me to go fuck myself during first period.” I roll my eyes. I still don’t know if it’s actually her or if I imagined it as being her. She tweeted a few days ago that she was back in Chicago and that she was going to our school, but I haven’t seen her unless she dyed her hair pink.

 

Growing up, she said that she hated when people dyed their hair unnatural colours. That’s what makes me doubt her being the girl in the stairs. I don’t know why she would change her mind so suddenly. But then again, it has been a few years. Things change, and people change. I truthfully never thought in a million years I would be doing what I’m doing.  

 

When Toby was born, Brianna was  all over him and then once we figured out that he had a disability, I slowly pushed her away from my house. Maybe I was the problem? It would make sense since I pushed her away and then she informed me a couple months after that she was moving to Montreal. We talked on and off after she moved, but now that I think about it, I pushed her away.

 

When I hear my mom close the front door, I close my laptop and shrug on my jacket, putting a pack of cigarettes in the pocket with my lighter. I walk up to Cameron’s apartment.

 

I try my hardest to avoid my mom. She’s not mean or anything, she just has some mental issues. She believes in magic and that I have some sort of magic powers and she’s incredibly OCD. Not only that, but she’s a nervous wreck. She has breakdowns all the time. I feel bad that Toby has to live with her, but I always go out when she’s home.

 

The way mine and Cameron’s friendship works, is that I can just go into his house no matter what. I don’t give a flying fuck if his parents are there or not, they adore me somewhat. They know how psycho my mother is, so they could care less if I was at their house or drowning in a lake.

 

“Isaac come here,” Cameron calls, knowing it was me. “This girl, Brianna tweeted again, this one is interesting though.”

 

“Read it to me.” I state as I sit down at the counter.

 

“@_Brianna_: I have the tendency to flip people off when they say, “look what the cat dragged in.” F you narcissistic people.”

 

__________


 

Written by: @Always_Be_Together



 

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